Only Learned the Bad Things
by LazyKiss
Summary: All of my blood-tainted life, I never thought innocence was of any value. After eliminating the remaining source of my pain, I realised that there is one more source, one that cannot be beaten so easily. I should have figured it would be you, Sakura.


**Author's Note:**

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_So this is my first attempt at a POV type of story. This was inspired by a scene from a movie I remembered watching a long time ago where an old man was on the verge of dying and spent his last day retelling the story of his childhood to his adult daughter. It was such a good movie but I don't remember the title!_

_I want to thank my lovely beta-readers for beta-reading this story and helping me with my English and with the story as a whole. I appreciate it a lot. You guys are simply the best! A round of applause to _Mon Esprit Libre _and_ angelrider13.

_I hope you enjoy this one-shot._

_This is set in the distant future in the post Shinobi World War where Sasuke Uchiha finally realized that he had more enemy that he needed to the aftermath of the war, Madara revealed his true colours. Then, it was between Sasuke and him. Both of them were at their limits. The battle ended and both evil fell. Before Sasuke could finally close his eyes, he remembered there was another thing that he hadn't truly dealt with._

_Read on dear readers._

**_Summary:_**_ All of my blood-tainted life, I never thought innocence was of any value. After eliminating the remaining source of my pain, I realised that there is one more source, one that cannot be beaten so easily. I should have figured it would be you, Sakura._

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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**Only Learned the Bad Things**

Late in the afternoon, just before dusk, I finally turned off my Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan and dropped the bloody Kusanagi on the ground. Susanoo had already dispersed from the lack of chakra a while ago. I didn't bother wiping the blood that was still dripping from the blade, but I was bothered with the fact that it was sitting too close to the body that I had just mutilated without much of a thought. I felt disgusted with myself. It wasn't something that I feel in the long run. I took it back and pierced it into the ground near the head, like a marking tombstone. I looked at the body, shook his broken-to-splinters dead hand with my sin-tainted one and smirked. It was more than a mockery. There was a formality to it, like a funeral without the sadness.

I found something to do with my hands, like dropping it down in the final moment of strength that I had. I looked away and tried not to think.

For a few moments, I just watched the sky, ignoring the screaming pain in my body. Strong, no longer weak. Resolved, no longer crying. Avenged, no longer seeking vengeance. My eyes fell onto his face once more, or what's left of it, more like. Gone, no longer existing.

This isn't the first time I felt the loss. I've been through it again and again. The difference is, I acknowledged my first loss, ignored my second and dismissed the rest. But this one... this loss...

My blurry eyes strayed to his disfigured body –

I felt _lost_ with it.

I shook my head. All day long I'd been picturing Sakura's face, the way she smiled.

Somehow, Madara reminds me of… I mean, there's this girl I used to know. I took her to the movies once. My first date.

I looked at Madara's dead face for a long while. Then I leaned back and smiled.

It was after the Land of Snow mission. We were twelve, turning thirteen. She was in love, but I wasn't. I just thought that I'd give it a try because she kept insisting, and because I wanted to know what it would be like. Sort of. When I think about her now, it's tempting to dismiss it as a memory, a road I've taken during my childhood, but I know for a fact that what she felt for me was as deep and stupid as love can ever get. It had all the shadings and complexities of burden and hurt, and maybe more, but it was different, yet fixed to the comparisons and chronologies and the ways people measure things. Because it was love, she convinced me that the heart knows what it wants, what it needs, and what it misses…

And I loved.

Just not her, though. Her idea, maybe, because it sounded so sweet and promising. Because it sounded like Mother. It sounded like Father. It sounded like family.

She had kindness and affection. Her eyes, I remember, were jade green and her hair, ridiculous but exotic pastel pink that framed her baby-fat, heart-shaped face, and she was slender and very loud and very cute-looking. Even then, at twelve years old, I wanted to live inside her body. I wanted to melt into her heart; I wanted to feel this love she claims to feel. Something like that. I know that, back then, I didn't want to be bothered with it. I had more important things in my mind, like getting stronger and more powerful. To get closer to killing my brother.

I cringed. I was so wrong.

Anyway, after the mission was accomplished, Kakashi let us wander around the town to enjoy and relax for two days as a reward. Before the last day, Sakura asked if I wanted to see a movie with her. To her surprise and excitement, I said yes. Her eyes shined, her smile widened. I remembered looking away. It was distracting. I don't really remember, but I guess we had managed to shake Naruto off. Her idea or mine, I can't recall. That evening, we went to see the movie she picked. It wasn't romance like I expected. It was action. I guess she had taken my preference into consideration, trying to impress me. Sakura and I waited in the line quietly, both trying to pretend it was nothing special. I knew she was nervous, I could hear her heart beating fast and loud. For me though, it was essential.

Down inside, I had more important things to consider, things to think about, but something kept disturbing my trail of thought. I had trouble thinking straight. Now and then, I'd glance at her. At her white skin and those bright green eyes and how she would smile at the world with that pretty smile – always, it seemed – like she didn't want to disappoint herself. What she wore, I don't remember exactly what, because she had traded the usual travel and training clothes with something local. All I know was that it was red with the kunai holster strapped on her thigh and a bandage on her left arm. It struck me now the reason why I couldn't think straight wasn't because of the disrupted avenger plans, but because of her beauty and possibly because of her innocence too. It was really distracting and paralyzing. She looked so beautiful that night under the fluorescent light of the cinema.

As we bought the popcorn and drinks, I wanted to tell her how nice she looked – just to test what it'd feel like, of course. But the words were stuck in my throat. Then I figured that I shouldn't bother. It would just lead her on. "I like your shirt by the way," she told me, referring to the simple black shirt I was wearing that I'd bought earlier that day. I didn't say thanks, just grunted slightly. The old lady next to us, who was eavesdropping, turned and gave me a hard look. I hid my grimace, what was I supposed to do? Say thanks and see her transform into a big red tomato?

The irony? I liked tomatoes.

We took our seats a while later in front of the big screen. I saw that Sakura was holding her hands to herself, afraid to latch on to me. By this time, she had already known what would annoy me but she didn't know that, at the time, I actually didn't mind her touch. I was twelve years old. I had accustomed myself to being quiet. I had no gift whatsoever in small talks. Now and then, the old lady who had unfortunately sat in front of me glanced back and made little motions with her crinkly hands for me to do something. Sakura was just sitting there, smiling nervously at anywhere but me and the old lady, embarrassed. I didn't know why, but I turned to Sakura and said something. I forgot what I told her, but Sakura had smiled gratefully to me. I said something again, and it encouraged her to begin whispering conversations – one-sided conversations mostly – with me before the movie finally started. "It's starting," she whispered, looking at me with big excited green eyes.

I didn't know what started; the movie or my heart.

The thing about remembering something is that you wonder as you remember it. You wonder if that something really happened, or if it was just a figment of your own imagination, or if it was just a dream or a broken memory that you just sort of pieced together in order for it to make sense. Me, I see no sense. Why was I so fixated on revenge in the first place? Why was I so obsessed with Itachi, Konoha, and then Madara? Why couldn't I just stayed there and be safe next to Sakura, Naruto, and Kakashi?

Revenge.

I couldn't let them die for nothing. I couldn't let them die in vain. They – even the one that betrayed me – mattered a lot to me. And I needed to find a way to honour them, to avenge them, and to fill the void that appeared after they ripped out the identities that made me. It was simple really. Kill, kill, and kill. I didn't realise it at the time, but it actually wasn't that simple. I wasn't the only one that was strong out there. If I could see hell with my eyes, then I guess another could rule that very same hell. I don't consider myself a god. If I was, I would've brought my clan back to life and just snap the neck of my enemies without much of an effort, but I wasn't so I couldn't.

I would wonder if I had a place called home. I would wonder what it's like to live a life where my family wasn't slaughtered, and where I would have actually fallen in love, not with just my family, but with a girl. A girl like Sakura, perhaps. I would wonder if I would've had friends and girlfriends and ended up as the head of the family with the girl that I'd ended up marrying. I'd wonder if I'd have children, Uchiha children, running around me in the Uchiha compound. I'd wonder if I'd teach them how to use the Sharingan. I'd wonder if I'd teach them the Uchiha pride. I'd wonder all sorts of things when I'm alone and have nothing to do, like now with a dead mutilated body in front of me. Then I'd remember why I killed the owner of that body, and then I'd start wondering again.

That's what remembering does. It makes you wonder. Sometimes, you'd wonder if the soul of all the people you've killed would come to you as you're sitting, worn and tired and dying, when you're at the root of a big tree, the only remaining tree that was standing on a bare, destroyed land where a forest once stood. You'd wonder, like I was, if the souls would say something to you instead of just standing there with a dark, translucent light with a matching aura, looking at you with unreadable expressions.

"_You actually did it."_

"_Your ambitions are accomplished. What now?"_

"_Little brother, stop crying..."_

I hung my head. I felt nothing, and yet these tears still fall. I felt nothing, and yet my heart shrivels. Maybe it was because I felt nothing, my future saw nothing as well. I chuckled. So Kakashi was right. I have no future. I was finished with the present and had nothing to look for the future. Well, what now?

Even now, I can see her face in profile beside me, her cheeks softly lighted by the playing screen. The movie was hardcore action with samurai and ninja fighting each other for a piece of land. There were so many movements and so much screaming and so much blood – fake blood, of course. There was almost nothing to smile about. Just grimacing and sighing as you watch the main character escaping harm's way. I remember glancing over at Sakura, thinking the movie might be a disappointment for her, but in the dimmed, grey light, she seemed to be smiling enjoyably at the screen. There were little crinkles at her eyes, her lips open and gently curving at the corners. The audience was gasping and reacting to every single action presented, but I was bored. I'd done way more impressive stuff than what they were showing. Clearly, Sakura thought so too. She looked at me and blushed with sudden admiration. I could see the red tint on her cheeks, even in the dark, and I had stilled when she suddenly grabbed my arm from the sudden suspense the screen was permitting. My mind reeled to the memory of a few days before where I had laid on her lap because I was so tired from the fighting. She had cushioned my head and gently warmed me with her light touches. Although the grip she had my arm in wasn't that same type of touch, the memory of having her skin against mine jumpstarted something deep inside my system. I felt an odd, warm intrusion inside of me from it. I remember trying to act cool about it, even after the movie ended.

We walked through the cheerful, colourfully lighted town that night, heading to the inn we were staying at. I ignored everything except for Sakura, but still, I don't remember what I focused on the most that night. Her voice, maybe. She was talking, so it must've been her high-pitched, child-like voice that I remembered. Things must've been said, but it's all gone now, except for a few last images. I remember walking her to the door of her room. I remember the brass light with its fierce yellow glow, my hands in my pockets, the frame on the wall, the room's number, and Sakura close beside me. She was in love, even if I wasn't, and now we were alone in front of the door to her hotel room. Finally, we looked at each other.

"_I had a great time. Thank you for going with me."_

She said that while her face was burning. So shy compared to her usual, straight-out fangirling.

"_Bye, Sasuke-kun."_

I nodded.

Ugh, it hurts. I anticipated direct death after the battle, but I didn't know that fate was cruel enough to let me live for another short moment. I was broken, quite literally. Every inch of my body was hit by Madara's attacks, my chakra was empty, and my heart was failing. Susanoo had even sucked out the very little life I had left in me. I didn't feel that when I shook Madara's hand, but now that I've finally sat down, I'm beginning to feel the effect of the suicidal battle. My legs are killing me, my hands are useless, and my eyes are seeing stars. I didn't want to remember the fight because the decision, every single decision that I've made in that fight and the many ones before that, ruined me. He had used me till the very end, even as I was opposing him. Such magnifying power. To think, that I was still breathing – dying, but still breathing – is a mystery that makes me question about my strength and control. I knew I was strong, but throughout the whole fight, he had called me weak. He had pointed out all the flaws that I've tried to hide, and the flaws I never knew I had. I felt something shift inside of me, a deep thunderous rumble in my chest. It was anger. I felt coldness inside me, something dark and beyond reason. Something told me that it was evil. Evil had penetrated me and left no room for repentance to make up for the darkness I've cloaked myself in. I was capable of evil because I suffered. For years it'd been a vow, a passion, an ambition. I remembered how there had to be consequences.

My sight fell on his form. Mutilated and beyond recognition. Positively dead. The sinister effect of my wrath, the wrath that was slowly ebbing away and replaced with a dull feeling. For a moment, I felt a sense of pure and total loss took over, and I cried. I let myself to cry. The warm, saltwater trailed down my bleeding face and dropped down into one of my hands. My useless, mangled hands. I couldn't even lift it up or move it so that the drop of tears wouldn't pool in my palm. I don't want to admit this, but I was afraid that the soon-to-be formed pool of tears in my palm will reflect my broken face, my broken, evil, sinful face. For a moment there, I felt like I've used up all the evil and was left with a bottomless pit of its foul remnants.

I shuddered and I trembled. My body was in shock. I wanted to cry out "Goddamnit, fucking bastard!" but I couldn't because my throat tightened and my lungs constricted. Then I blacked out.

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I'm still not... dead...

It was late in the evening, just before midnight, and I finally finished my ambitions and now have nothing left to do except wait for the darkness to come after me. The waiting had led me to remembering, unfortunately.

She had kindness and affection. Her eyes, I remember, were jade green and her hair, ridiculous but exotic pastel pink that framed her baby-fat, heart-shaped face, and she was slender and very loud and very cute-looking.

"_I – I love you with all my heart! If you were to stay here with me, there would be no regrets, because every day we'd do something fun, we'd be happy, I swear! I would do anything for you! So please – just stay with me!"_

I smiled and closed my eyes.

Would you believe it if I said that I still remember that? This is embarrassing, but I do. In fact, I've never forgotten it.

_"Take me with you! I'll help you, Sasuke-kun, I promise!"_

The first few years, I had thought that it was nice of her to promise something so loyal like that, and I was touched by it. But that tiny voice at the back of my head would always challenge me, asking that if I had actually fallen for those empty promises. The voice then would remind me that it was similar to Itachi's promises. Later, maybe-next-time type of promises; the ones that kept you hoping, only to disappoint you at the very last moment. She was sincere, but I doubt that she'd help much in my quest to obtain power. If anything, she would only slow me down and I'd be carrying another burden. Sakura always needed protecting. She was fragile and easily beaten. The many times we spent as a team had proven that.

But a few years later, I heard that she was trained by one of the Sannin. I heard she defeated a member of my brother's organization, and I heard she saved the Kazekage's brother's life. I also heard she was on the rise of becoming the next Tsunade as well. Then I'd think again on the promise. For a short while, I had doubted myself for rejecting that offer, but then I realized she – like me – only got stronger because she was left behind. She had only just learned, so I didn't react much to it; I had even dismissed it. I was still obsessed with my goals to kill a certain man, I didn't pay much heed to her. It wasn't a mistake because I discovered that she was just as weak as she had been when we met at the fight where I killed Danzo. Weak.

Now, well… to be truthful, I don't know. I saw her in the war but that was a month ago. She was the leader of what it seemed to be the head medical team of the Allied Shinobi Force. I wanted to kill her at the time just to limit the opposing force, but I had something else to do. I spent a few minutes, though, watching her in her zone. Impressive, very impressive. Although she saved a mountain more than she lost, she hadn't hesitated to kill anyone like she did when I asked her to kill Karin. The people were on the verge of dying and had no hope to survive, just like Karin had, but she simply placed her chakra filled hand at their temples and ended their lives. Now why wasn't she like that a year ago? Then, maybe, I would've reconsidered her promise and had actually let her come with me.

I laughed at the image of her in a dark cloak, assisting me in eliminating every Konoha shinobi out there. I laughed, picturing her killing her friends. I laughed, picturing her killing her families.

"_A life with love throughout!_"

No…

Sakura is too pure for that. Whatever she did, it must have a good reason; a good-hearted reason.

I cringed. I felt revolted with myself, with what I've become. Even as I am dying, I can still manage to have the evil thought about the most innocent person I've ever known in my life. I felt sick. Sick! I clutched my stomach and hurtled to the side as I threw up the empty contents of my severely beaten stomach. I wiped the corner of my mouth with the torn bandages on my arms. Slowly and carefully, I leaned back at the tree trunk and tried to breathe calmly and ease my deep uncontrolled sobbing.

"_Little brother, stop crying…"_

"Itachi, I can't…"

I felt myself breaking down again.

"I can't…"

Desperate… I am desperate.

Sometimes, I wished I'd just listened to them and stopped. Just stopped. But I didn't, because I was too deep into my hatred and anguish that I blindly but seeingly follow. I wanted to have my own brand of justice. I wanted to see blood for every drop my clan has equally spilt. I made that choice and now –

"I regret."

I cried my sorry heart out.

She had kindness and affection. Her eyes, I remember, were jade green and her hair, ridiculous but exotic pastel pink that framed her baby-fat, heart-shaped face, and she was slender and very loud and very cute-looking.

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**Author's Note:**

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_So there you go!_

_What do you think? Do tell me in the reviews. I hope this was a good story even though it's a sad one. I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it too._

_Thank you for reading and have a good day!_

**_Kissa_**


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